


Earth-16

by BatsaboutBats (theboxedfox)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Red Robin - Fandom, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Depression, He just wants to go where he is needed and wanted, M/M, Multi, This is not emotional manipulation I promise, This will have a good ending I promise, Tim is not in a good place to begin with but he gets better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theboxedfox/pseuds/BatsaboutBats
Summary: Superboy is rejected publicly by Superman and stripped of his title. Elsewhere in the multiverse a former Robin desperately wants nothing more than to bring his own Superboy back. Both the Bat clan and the Justice League label him a threat to himself and others, and attempt to put an end to his vigilante career. Both teenagers are abandoned by those they need most. When Red Robin crosses dimensions to  reach out to Superboy of Earth-16, both heroes and villains alike are going to feel the aster.





	1. Chapter 1

Earth 16

The one nobody wants, the one he can never have. 1/?

Summary: Superboy, teenage angst, one giant douche bag boyscout, and the man who crossed dimensions.

 

" _ You _ shouldn't be here." 

The hard, cutting tone gave Batman the urge to spit. Anything to let the sour anger surging in his throat escape. Being the bastard was his schtick, not Superman's. The fact that he was aiming it at a child who'd done nothing more than try to help his teammates even riled  _ his  _ hackles. It didn't help that Superman addressed the cloned boy in a way that silently implied  _ you _ meant  _ unnatural freak _ .

The teenagers had been called in to help with the cleanup of the battle they fought against a new type of battle droid that was still of unknown origin. One hadn't been completely deactivated and Superboy had stumbled across it. In the ensuing brawl the boy had ruined several street lamps, two cars, and almost crushed a small bridge that a few cars were still trapped on due to the road block. Two civilians had been injured.

Batman strode forward, but his legs weren't fast enough to get him between the two. He was only human after all.

"Don't wear my crest. I don't want people confusing us-- or blaming me for any damage or injuries you cause." Superman ripped the boy's shirt, tearing away the shield logo roughly.

Superman was already in the sky when Batman reached Superboy-- no, just Conner now. The boy didn't understand his demotion, Batman realized. He picked up the fabric carefully.

"We'll find you some new clothes." He held the logo out to the boy. "And design a different costume."

Conner took the ruins of his shirt and lowered his head as he pressed it futile to his chest. 

 

 

He had a problem, but he just couldn't bring himself to give a shit anymore. He'd finished off a fourth bottle of white wine today and it wasn't even three o clock in the afternoon. Withdrawn, dismissed, orphaned, his best friend dead, Tim Drake might as well have been too. He tossed the empty bottle into the recycling container, not even wincing as it shattered loudly in an explosion of green shards. 

He hated everything right now. Especially himself. He had a problem and it wasn't alcohol. It was that he could not fix what was wrong with his life-- Superboy was dead. He had tried in vain to get over it, he'd done so with his mother, his father, Bart, and even Bruce. Kon had been the last straw. 

Kon had just been that important. _The most important._ His best friend who always had his back no matter what. Kon would have believed him about Bruce being lost in time and not dead. Kon would have kept Damian from nearly killing him. Kon would have told Dick to go to hell and how to get there. Kon would have cried with him for Bart. He would have never, _ever_ let Tim get this fucking low.

His computer was running in the background, trying to sprawl the internet for anything, even a myth that might lead him to some sort of possible clue to bringing back the dead. The lazarus pit had been his very last resort, after cloning attempts failed and no magic user in their right mind wanted to help him.

Superman had caught wind of what he was trying to do, finally. Tim knew it was only because Cassie ratted him out. She'd been the only one he'd confided in, thinking naively that she'd understand. She'd been Conner's girlfriend and she missed him just as badly. Instead, she told Superman and he took Kon's body to the sun and cremated it. 

The league had tried an intervention by summoning Dick to talk to him and bring him back into 'reality'. The ensuing fallout had been epic. Alone, shunned and labeled a risk, Red Robin stopped patrolling and began drinking in the last safe house he had that no one knew about. Otherwise, he feared they might have stuck him in Arkham.

Dick replaced him as Robin, giving it to Damian who'd tried to _kill_ Tim when he'd first arrived. Oracle had long since blocked him from her servers and the Batcomputer, cutting him out as clinically as she could. She'd tried to talk to him at first but he refused to back down. He knew Bruce was alive and Barbara gave up trying. Jason was fuck knows where, but he'd tried to kill Tim too so good riddance.

He didn't want to taste the tears that stained his face anymore and drank himself into a stupor each night trying to lessen the grief. Tonight would be no different.

Except that when he woke later in the wee hours of dawn, his computer had come up with a different solution. It took him several minutes to read the proposal, staving his hangover off with the blackest and most bitter coffee he could muster. While he heaved into the trashcan by his desk a plan formed in the back of his mind.

If Tim was abandoned and unwanted here, he'd just go somewhere else where Kon still existed and needed him. Fuck the Justice League, fuck the Bat clan, and fuck Earth-whatever-number-this-was. 

He was going to Earth 16 to find Superboy.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Earth-16:chapter 2

Summary: Superboy is no more and Conner doesn't have a last name either.

 

 

 

Truth be told, they cared about Superboy. They were friends, teammates and they'd risked more than their careers to rescue him. That didn't make it easy to understand him. He had holes in his brain. M'gann put it best by describing him as being pulled from the womb too soon.

He knew several different languages, astronomy, and odd trivia, but when it came to basic human interactions he was severely stunted. Just enough knowledge to function, but not enough to truly live. The worst part of it was that he was aware of his failings.

Robin wanted to cheer him up the following weekend and brought him some video games. Wally brought food. M'gann cooked even more food. Kaldur tried talking to him. The efforts made Conner forget a little, but come Monday morning he was alone in the mountain again and only had the tv as company. Usually M'gann would be staying with him, but she'd gone out shopping. It was lonely but after the last encounter with Superman he felt that he deserved it.

Conner didn't know how to fix this it had always been broken.

His new costume consisted of a plain black t-shirt and the same blue jeans. Red Tornado had brought two boxes of new shirts over for him before telling him to go and socialize outside for a change. Conner knew the robot just wanted to work on his projects in peace without some screw up kid-clone hanging about. So he changed his shirt and left.

 

__________________________________________

 

He wandered along the shoreside by the mountain, not really feeling like going into town. He didn't think he could take the crush of crowds during lunch hour nor did he have anyplace in mind to go. He'd just walk around aimlessly and he could do that perfectly fine on the deserted beach.

The sun was low on the horizon when he reached the edge of the harbor and his boots were covered in sand. He sat down to take them off, and halfway through unlacing the right one, he stopped. His chest was squeezing in that way that told him the water would be leaking from his eyes again. He closed them tightly, trying to focus on finishing taking off his shoes.

He may not have been human, but that didn't mean his heart was invulnerable. He wiped his nose on his forearm, before hugging his knees to his chest.  _ I wish I'd never been made _ , he thought miserably.

"Well I'm glad you were born." A voice startled him and he jumped to his feet his muscles tensed for battle. The sound had come from above and to his right. In his pity-party he'd been distracted from anything but the waves crashing to shore. Had he spoken those thoughts aloud?

A man was sitting on one of the rocky ledges of the cliff that boxed in the harbor from any prying or nosy neighbors. He was unarmed as well, and Conner lowered his fists. Pale blue eyes stared down at him, before a small smile flashed over his mouth.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just couldn't help but overhear..." He gestured vaguely at the sea. "Are you ok?"

Conner was dumbfounded. Nobody had asked him that before.

"I'm... yeah. I'm ok." He wasn't but that wasn't this trespasser's business. "This is private property, you don't belong here." Not only that, but Conner knew there was a Batman defense system surrounding this mountain, and nobody up to any good would be able to get through it. The man climbed down the craggy rockside, slowly, dropping down into the sand with a thump when he reached a less risky height.

"Sorry, my boat hit something and I had to bring it ashore." The man bit his lower lip, looking somewhat sheepish as he pointed towards the rocks further down from where they stood. A small sailboat had indeed been beached, a splintered crack running along the front of the hull. "I was trying to get up high to see if I could see any houses nearby-- I didn't know it was so deserted out here."

Conner hesitated. He couldn't bring the man back to the mountain, and he couldn't exactly ask a robot for help. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the broken boat, wondering if he could somehow fix it and send the man out into the water again. He didn't know the override codes to the security systems, and he wasn't sure Batman would be too pleased to know he showed someone the way in and out of the compound.

"I guess I could try swimming out around the inlet and see if I can't make it to a more populated beach?" The man said with a wry smile. "You don't have to help me."

"I want to, but I'm just not sure how." Conner stammered, jamming his hands into his pockets. "I'm gonna get in trouble just for you being here." 

The man chuckled, running a hand through his damp jet black hair. It wasn't short, but not too long. The cut reminded him of those boy band magazines that M'gann had been studying. Trendy, that was the word for it.

"I'm sorry." The man sounded quite sincere and Conner swallowed the lump in his throat at how nice it was to hear someone care. "Do you have a cell phone? I could call my friends that were on the other boat to come get me."

Conner pulled his phone from his pocket. It was only supposed to be for team contact, but this was the only solution and better than taking him back to the base. The man dialed, and held a brief conversation which ended with a heartfelt thank you. He took the phone back and tucked it into his back pocket.

"Thank you...? What's your name?"

"It's... Conner." He turned to face the ocean again, scanning for any incoming boats.

"I'm Tim." Tim mirrored his stance, only he folded his arms over his trim chest. He was also shivering, which wasn't surprising for a human wearing half dry clothing on a chilly and windy evening. His polo shirt was mottled and dark from the chest down where he'd waded ashore from the boat. The khakis were a hopeless mess of sand and dirt and he was missing a sandal. "I'm sorry for earlier too, by the way."

"Sorry for what?" The clone glanced at him, puzzled.

"For butting in on your... well, brooding. You looked so sad that me being stranded on a beach seemed like fate."

He flushed, looking at the sand quickly. So the man had heard him.

"I was just feeling sorry for myself. I'm fine."

Tim smiled, but didn't push the matter further, instead shrugging his shoulders and huddling deeper into his wet shirt. Before long, another boat appeared in the distance, and Tim waved to the figure waiting on the deck to warn it away from the rocks that had cracked his hull.

"Thanks for your help." Tim patted his broad shoulder lightly, his fingers cold even through Conner's shirt. "I'd like to repay you."

"You don't have to, you just used my phone." Conner mumbled.

"I insist. Lunch tomorrow? My treat."

"It's ok, I..." He paused. No one besides Wally had really invited him anywhere, unless it was a mission. Red Tornado had said to socialize too. "Fine."

"Let me see your phone." 

Conner watched as the man flipped it open with his thumb and input his contact information. By the time he handed it back, the boat was close enough for Tim to wade out and swim the remaining distance.

"I'll call you and tell you where to meet me." Tim brushed his bangs from his face as he stepped into the water, waving. Conner sat in the sand until the boat and Tim were long gone. When the sun set, he finally got up and trudged back to base. He didn't expect the man to call.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Earth-16: Chapter 3

Summary: Awkward boys are awkward but that's ok, Tim is nice.

 

Tim called him at a respectable hour the next morning, but it woke him anyway. He was still having trouble sleeping in beds that weren't inclined upright. Groggily he fumbled with the phone when he answered.

"Hello?"

_ "Hi Conner, it's Tim. I hope I didn't wake you..." _

"You did." He didn't understand the concept of blunt, but Tim didn't take offense. Instead he chuckled in a soft, subdued manner that he'd never heard someone do before. He was far too use to Robin's maniacal giggle, or Wally's braying. He felt his cheeks grow warm, because nobody's voice had ever sounded so... 

_ "Sorry, I thought you'd be awake now. I wondered if you knew where the Coyote Cafe was?" _

Superboy was suddenly aware of the small, shivery tingles that the soft timbre of Tim's voice sent down his spine in slow cascading waves. 

"No... Is that where you want to eat?" He sat up, planting his feet on the floor beside his bed. The thin throw rug was scratchy beneath his soles, and he wiggled his toes to get rid of the nervous energy beginning to build. Vague embarrassment was making him self conscious, unsure of his responses because he had no visual cues to react to. How did normal people talk on the phone so easily, he wondered. 

_ "Well we don't have to, I'm just suggesting things close by to where we met?" _

Conner hadn't eaten in a restaurant before. Ever.

"I'd like to go. I'll find it." He knew that the internet would help him get there-- Google, that's what Wally used to order take-out wasn't it?

_ "Great! Meet you there, say 12:30? I'll text you the address." _

 

_ ************************************ _

 

W hen Conner finished his shower he heard the zeta tube hum to life, along with the monotone confirmations of visitors. Tugging a fresh shirt over his head, he headed to the meeting hall still towel drying his hair.

Batman brought Robin and Flash brought Wally respectively. He may not have been the smartest kid in the cave but he didn't have to ask to know the others would be arriving soon.

"Supey!" Wally greeted him brightly. "Just in time man, we got a mission!"

"Ok." He draped the damp towel over his shoulders, waiting for their orders with his arms folded easily over his chest. Robin and KF were a bit more rambunctious and chatted about some tv show called Adventure Time and then about Thundercats. He didn't know what that was but it sounded interesting enough, cats that thundered. He closed his eyes and imagined kittens running on dark clouds causing havoc in the sky.

When the others arrived, he listened as Batman gave them their case. Mysterious power surges had been happening in a district close to the mountain, and a larger energy pulse a week earlier had started it all. They were to investigate local labs and companies to see if there was any suspicious activity. No engaging, just detecting.

"Can I sit this one out?" Conner asked hesitantly. Batman's gaze narrowed at him and he regretted speaking up. "I don't think I'd be very good for this."

"The strategy is up to the team. Do what you want." Batman sounded like he was chewing gravel. Conner looked at the ground as the mentors left, and felt the awkward silence of his teammates weigh down upon him.

"You ok, Superboy?" Wally was the first to speak up, unable to stay quiet more than a minute.

"Don't call me that." He said, without much wind to it. He didn't have it in him to be angry anymore. He was just tired. "I'm not allowed to wear the shield anymore." The startled exclamations just made him feel even worse.

"I can't believe this, who told you that??" Robin blew up, clearly angered that yet again someone dared to disrespect one of their own.

"Superman." He mumbled. Aqualad squeezed his shoulder, firmly.

"Shield or no shield you are you and our friend. Please don't think we don't want you here." The leader was cool headed even though the anger towards Superman was written across his face. " _We_ need you."

Conner relaxed, the words easing the tight ball in his chest a little. He nodded and Aqualad patted his back.

"Thanks." He smiled shyly, hoping that they knew he appreciated it.

 

_ ************************************ _

They found nothing that day, but they'd only covered two labs near the center of recorded activity. This job was catered specifically to Robin, meaning they were all just directed where to be and what to do. It wasn't terribly complicated, but Superboy felt little out of place as he was regulated to lookout most of the time. Luckily, they weren't discovered so he had nothing to do. 

When they got back to the cave, Superboy's phone went off, almost making him leap out of his skin.

"Who's calling?" Robin asked, curiosity piqued.

It was only when Superboy checked the number that he realized he'd forgotten his luncheon with Tim. He wondered if he should answer or not-- but Tim had been nice to him and he felt bad for forgetting. So he answered, holding a hand up to Robin to be quiet.

"I forgot." He said without waiting for Tim's coming lecture.

_ "You didn't make it either? Thank God! I had something come up today, and I wasn't able to get away from work. I'm so, so sorry!"  _ Tim laughed on the other end sheepishly.  _ “I just got off work now, maybe we could have dinner together instead?” _

Superboy's heart stuttered, catching the slight wistfulness of Tim's tone.

“S-Sure. I'd like that.” He stammered, eyes darting to Robin, who was now grinning widely at him. By now, Wally had gotten curious and was mouthing at him, asking who he was speaking to. Tim paused for a moment, and Superboy swore he chuckled. He could feel his face growing warm at the scrutiny.

_“Would it be ok to pick you up? I mean it's fine if you'd rather just meet up somewhere but--”_

“You can.” He said without thinking, eagerness making him stupid.

“Hm?” Robin's voice was suddenly next to him and the little imp was smiling slyly up at him. “ _Who_ are you talking to, Conner?”

“Eh?!” Conner nearly dropped his phone but he saved it and managed to cover the receiver momentarily to answer his teammate. “A-A friend! Uh. Tim! Tim, I gotta go.”

_“Sure. Just text me where to pick you up at!”_ Tim sounded amused, not angry. Thank goodness, Conner thought as he ended the call. He turned reluctantly to his teammates, the flush on his cheeks beginning to spread down his neck.

“Tim, huh?” Robin angled his neck, eyes darting over the screen of Conner's phone screen to see if he couldn't catch the phone number. Superboy scowled, pressing it quickly to his chest to shield it from the prying gaze.

“He's nice. Tornado told me to go out and socialize. So I did!” He defended himself.

“Relax, that's a good thing. We're just curious.” Robin held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Where'd you meet?”

“O-out.” Conner wasn't technically lying. “Look, I've gotta meet up with him now, so...”

“Robin, let him be.” Aqualad rose an amused brow. “It's ok Conner, go meet your friend just be back before lights out. Have fun and don't hesitate to contact us if you need us.”

He nodded, muttering a quick thank you before he made his escape.

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Earth 16: Chapter 4

 

Summary: Dinner dates and Condiment Kings... of all the lousy stinking rogues to exist on both Earths why did it have to be him?

 

 

 

Tim carefully examined his options, laying different outfits across his bed. He'd been shopping since moving into this dimension. The fancier name brands were automatically rejected to be hung back up in his new closet. None of it was appropriate for this outing and what was left were casual but preppy clothes. They weren't really what he was looking to wear either. He didn't want to be Tim Wayne, he just wanted to be Tim Drake.

That's who he was now, a new up and coming CEO of a trendy tech company that had just bubbled onto the scene. That was fake Tim Drake too, the conglomerate frat boy reeking of new money. He'd been everything and everyone else and for once he just wanted to be himself. Whatever that was.

It had taken him almost six months to prepare for this. As much as he'd wanted nothing more than to flee his own world and just burst onto Earth-16 like a carefree teenager he had to make sure he had all his bases covered. That meant intense research, reconnaissance, prep work and lots of moving boxes. He glanced around his master bedroom in bemusement. It wasn't like his last permanent headquarters, but it was definitely better. The top floors were a trendy modern villa in the heart of downtown, while below were three sub level basements to make up his lair. At least he could live in comfort again and not in some shithole down in the dankest part of Gotham. _Three cheers for hot water hookups!_ He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

Getting Red Bird, his tech and the rest of his gear across the dimensions had taken up a lot of energy and resources. He felt a little guilty, giving the teenagers the run around all day, but at least he didn't have to contend with the Justice League. They were busy with something off-world, and he'd timed his moves accordingly. It wouldn't do to tangle with his Earth-16 mentor, he wanted to keep a low profile.

He huffed, shoving the stupid polos and cardigans to the floor. In the corner of his new master closet sat one of the heavy duffels he'd brought along on his first multiverse trip. They held most of his old-dimension's clothes, the comfortable well-worn ones from his days as Robin that he didn't have the heart to throw away. Half of them were actually Dick's cast offs and he wasn't about to analyze that right now.

He gave up and yanked a fresh pair of jeans out of the bag and then a red, vintage-soft hoodie. The nearest shoes were Nightwing's boots, a set of hand-me-downs that Tim used for civvies because they were comfortable, discreet and most importantly, stealthy. They didn't even look like vigilante gear when covered up by his bootcut jeans. If anything they looked like retro Hot Topic boots.

He didn't dare bring anything more than the kicks on this outing. It was just dinner, not patrol. He and Conner were going to eat, talk, and just.... Tim didn't know what else and that was the point. He was trying to be better about his control issues, because that would only hurt Conner and he knew that was the last thing he wanted. Tim could do this, he could go out to eat and just let everything take a natural course without using his skills as a Robin to manipulate and twist the situation to his advantage. It would be wrong and a grave mistake.

He flopped back on the bed and took some time to breathe through the panic that was clutching his chest. He would not _Batman_ his way into Conner's life, at least not more than he already had. He would tell Conner everything, as soon as they got to know one another better. It was a promise he'd made to himself and he knew he would not break it.

Conner wasn't his Kon. He knew that. Kon had been all bravado and confidence, quick with a quip and devil may care smile. This Conner was withdrawn, shy, and so unsure of himself. It hurt Tim to watch. He knew all too well how it felt to try in vain to live up to expectations and still fail despite giving it your all.

Superboy's teammates were great, kind to him of course. Tim had no problem with them. It was the League he was disgusted with because they were aloof and disinterested in nurturing their newest addition to the clan of El. When he'd seen the footage of Superman tearing away Conner's shirt emblem it broke his heart.

It had been the reason Tim decided to chose Earth 16 in the first place. This world's Conner had nobody but his teammates and they all had their own lives outside Mount Justice. Conner needed him, and Tim could admit to himself that he needed to be needed. It was what got him the job of being Robin afterall.

He was going to be late if he dawdled anymore, he realized. He snagged his wallet, keys and phone from the nightstand as he rolled off the bed. While his clothes may have been down to earth, his car certainly wasn't. It was a sleek red mustang, with the vintage muscle car body, black leather interior and every teen boy's wet dream come true. He'd had a garage installed on the first floor of the basement, using it's concrete construction as a sound barrier to camouflage for the high tech 'roost' below it. He'd thrown his previous lair's layouts out the window and moved on to bigger and better designs this time. He wasn't going to be leaving ( _ever_ , if he could help it) and he wanted to be comfortable.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he adjusted the mirrors and revved the engine.

_You can do this, just don't cry when you see him._ He'd been overwhelmed when he saw Superboy in person on that beach the first time. He wasn't replacing his Kon with this Conner, he would never do something like that, but it still had felt so good to see the other teen standing there. That yes, in this universe Superboy was still alive. That there was hope and good still left out there in existence,  _somewhere_ . 

He pulled out of the garage's hidden entrance and hit the throttle, speeding away towards his destination.

 

Conner had suggested the public library as a meeting place, which made the differences between Kon and Conner all the more stark. Tim chewed his lip to muffle a soft snort of a laugh when he saw the teen sitting on the steps of the large library his head ducked into a book that looked absolutely tiny in his hands. Kon had never liked reading much, he much preferred magazines with short informative articles and lots of scantily clad girls plastered across the pages inbetween.

Clark had to have been disappointed.

Kon would never have a career now.

Tim braked a little too hard, slamming down the thought with as much force as he could. _Stop it, focus._ He rolled his mirrored window down, grinning at Conner's surprised expression.

“Hey, hope I'm not too late.” He unlocked the door, motioning for the other teen to get in. “You wait long?”

“No.” Conner slid into the seat next to him, buckling up carefully. He looked awkward, and Tim knew he was trying quite hard to not break anything with his strength.

“Good. I was worried that I'd be late. I guess I'm still thinking like a Gothamite.” He shifted gears, and pulled off onto the street again, keeping with the flow of traffic.

“You're from Gotham?” Conner seemed interested, perking up a little.

“Yeah, born and raised.” Tim laughed, not bothering to signal as he turned. Nobody honked and he grinned widely. “It's a crazy town full of crazies but it was home.”

“Y-you ever see Batman?” Conner tilted his head curiously, eyes truly focused on him.

“Once or twice.” Tim replied wryly, biting his lower lip. “I saw Robin more often, to be honest. That kid is a real showoff.” He really had, but he kept his stalker history to himself. Dick was a big fat diva too. He doubted that had changed in this dimension either.

Conner sighed, but he was smiling.

“I saw their rogues too.” Tim offered.  _Shut up Tim_ , he thought but he didn't know what else to talk about. “Joker is the literal worst. I swear, if I see another giant whoopee cushion flying through the air again it'll be too soon. I'm so glad I moved to a much saner city.”

Conner laughed, covering his mouth.

“It is peaceful here I'll give you that.” Conner leaned back in his seat. “What brought you here?”

“Work. I'm head of Drake industries. Gotham isn't really a good place for me to open up shop, because there's too much competition and I really don't want some super villain stealing my tech.” They were quite close to the restaurant now, so he found a parking spot on the parallel and slid into it smoothly. “Figured here was good, since it's on the rise but doesn't have any super villains roosting in it. Plus? I got some wicked tax breaks from the state.” He tucked his sunglasses into a case and rose a brow at Conner.

Conner's chuckle was warm, and sounded much better than his sullen tone on the beach. Tim smiled, nerves dissipating . This was going well.

 

“HANDS UP!”

Things were  _not_ going well.

They'd barely started into their appetizer, warm crostini spread with fresh roasted artichokes and spiced goats milk cheese, when all hell broke loose. Tim was dripping in what he suspected was mayonnaise, while Conner was covered in ketchup. Stunned, they watched as Condiment King stormed the restaurant, spraying goopy trails of various condiments everywhere. The walls, the ceilings, and the patrons were soon covered in a veritable rainbow of slop.

Tim reached up and wiped a glop of mayo from his forehead, staring at the sticky strands clinging to his fingers. Conner watched him in silent camaraderie, not even bothering to try and wipe off his own face, because he didn't have a single inch of him that was clean. They both turned and watched the crazy man try to ransack the cash register while people began to flee their tables, some slipping and falling in the mess.

Resigned, Tim stood and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Conner stood with him, uncertain.

“Of all the lousy goddamn Gotham freakazoids to follow me here...” Tim muttered, pulling out a hundred dollar bill. “It had to be freaking  _Condiment King_ .” Slowly, with as much mustered calm as he could gather, he came to a stop in front of the cash register where the poor hostess was trying to open the till for the mostly harmless but absolutely insane D-rank wannabe villain.

Conner's sturdy presence beside him was familiar even if it wasn't the same. The other boy seemed to get that this wasn't like other cases, and he looked to Tim for their next move.

“Check please.” Tim placed the bill on the counter, in front of Condiment King. Just far enough out of reach that the man had to lean closer to grab the easy cash.

Conner's brows flew into his hairline when the heel of Tim's palm smashed into the distracted lunatic's nose, breaking it in one solid hit. Both hostess and Kryptonian looked solidly impressed when the man went down without so much as a whimper.

“Keep the change.” Tim told the hostess, pointedly looking at the phone hanging on the wall beside her. She quickly grabbed it off the receiver and dialed 911, edging away from the unconscious heap of crazy at her feet. A few of the larger male patrons came forward, dragging the Condiment King out from behind the counter, and divested him of his so called 'weapons' and made sure he wasn't getting back up.

Tim pretended he didn't see them kick him around a little, and once he was satisfied that things were safe, he took Conner's hand and pulled him out of the restaurant. They stood on the sidewalk, dripping with sticky ooze from head to toe.

As sirens drew near, Tim closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Would it be ok to get a hotel room and just order some pizza?” Tim asked Conner, motioning down the street where some mid range hotels were. “We both need to shower. Uh. I mean...” He floundered. “N-not together or anything, I'm not trying to come onto you I swear. I just really,  _really_ , don't want to have my car stink of rotten mayo.” 

Conner burst into laughter until he was holding his belly.

“Yeah, that sounds... great.” Conner wiped the mirth from his eyes, their eyes locking. Both sniggered, tension gone.

“You like pineapple on your pizza?” Tim asked conversationally, as they made their way towards the Holiday Inn.

“No? I don't know.” Conner rubbed his neck, grimacing at the way his hair was sticky. “Never tried it.”

“It's pretty good, though I use to think it was blasphemy till my friend made me try it.” Kon had loved it, would Conner? "I feel like we should do dinner over, since..." Tim gestured behind them vaguely.

“You made my night when you laid that guy out flat. Impressive.” Conner grinned.

“Gothamite, remember? You can't live there without knowing how to throw a punch.” Tim replied so solemnly that they both snorted back a laugh. “Not to mention have nerves of steel.”

That made Conner laugh again, but little did he know that Tim was in on the joke too. Tim's smile was soft as he watched Conner be reduced to chuckles at the front desk clerk's utter perplexity by their filthy state of dress. He was glad that the boy looked much better now that the ice had been broken between them. As he took the room keys, he allowed himself to be happy for the moment. 

It had been ages since he had been.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Tim let Conner shower first, taking their ruined clothes and promptly threw them in the trash can. Housekeeping had kindly brought them two robes, one of which Tim laid out on a chair by the bathroom door so Conner could reach it easily. In the meantime he made a few calls to his office and then texted his personal assistant, Amber.

She was at his room with the items he requested just as Conner was turning off the water.

“Thanks Ms.Hart. I'm sorry to have to bother you after office hours, I really appreciate this.” He flashed her a smile, taking the two bags she handed him. She merely beamed back, nodding. Her hands flew into motion, signing back that it was no trouble at all. She was quite amused by his text about running into a Gotham crazy and her eyes shone with effort to hold back a giggle at the state of his hair.

“Have a good night and be careful on your way home.” He patted her shoulder, facing her so that she could read his lips without trouble. She was a great assistant and he made a mental note to buy her lunch when he was back in the office. It was only when she was in the elevator that Conner exited the bathroom.

“Who was that?” Conner asked, toweling his hair dry. The robe was too small for his frame, barely wide enough to be tied shut fully and just long enough to brush the tops of his calves.

“Oh, my assistant. I had her pick up some clothes for us, I don't think these are gonna be salvageable.” He motioned to the ripe smelling piles of laundry in the trash bin. “I hope that's ok?”

“It's fine.” Conner took the bag Tim handed him and peeked into it curiously. “Thank you.”

Conner's hand lowered to the robe's belt and suddenly Tim was very much aware of how chiseled the other teen's stomach was. _Oh_ , his mind supplied helpfully. _Shit._

“I—I should probably go wash up too, the pizza should be here soon. Just use the creditcard on the n-nightstand.” Tim stuttered, ripping his eyes away as the robe fell open. “I won't be long!” He escaped to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, leaning against the thin barrier. In the mirror, he caught sight of himself, uncertain and just a smidge panicked. He took several breaths to calm down, before smacking both his flushed cheeks to ground himself.

_Smooth, real smooth, dork wonder._

There had been relatively few moments in his life in which Tim's brain had shut down like that. Kon was more often than not the cause of Tim.exe crashing. Sometimes it was merely something the other teen said that was so simple it was brilliant. Other times it was his sheer presence, a devil may care smile that Tim felt blazed brighter than the sun and made the long shadows cast over him shrink away. Kon had made him feel like a normal teenager, even when the rest of Tim's world was proof enough that he very much was  _abnormal_ .

_It's just deja-vu._ _Relax._

He shook himself, placing his own robe into a basket under the sink. It was already smudged with leftover condiments, too ruined to wear anymore. The grime over his skin was already rank and felt like a plastered shell over his body. Dried streaks of mayo pulled at the soft skin of his elbow, pinching as he reached to turn the shower on.

It took longer to shower than he anticipated, he was grubbier than he'd been in a long time and it had gotten  _everywhere_ . Even his ears weren't spared and he carefully rinsed each out, wincing at the grossness coming out of them. How he could still hear anything was amazing. By the time he reached his feet he was already pruning, but he didn't want to leave a speck of the awful smelling stuff. 

The hotel staff was going to hate them, as he was certain the bathtub was clogged up when he was finished. The water was murky and standing to his ankles, the drain struggling as it chugged the sludge sluggishly down the pipes. The towel wasn't large but it was big enough to get the job done as he dried off his freshly scrubbed skin. He wiped condensation off the large mirror and checked to be sure he was truly clean.

Only skin and scars met him, mayonnaise free at last.  _Shit, I can't let him see me naked._

Tim touched his chest lightly, tracing a stab wound. Then a graze from a bullet over the highest swell of his shoulder. Some were faded enough to be nearly invisible on his pale skin. The wound where he'd lost his spleen? Totally not subtle.

Self consciously he cracked open the bathroom door and called out to Conner.

“Hey can you hand me that bag Amber brought?”

Conner sauntered over, a slice of pizza in one hand, the bag in the other. Apparently the pizza had arrived and from the looks of the half empty box, Tim gathered that Conner was a pineapple pizza fan.

“Herfe...” Conner chewed and swallowed, before trying again. “Here, sorry.”

“Thanks.” He quickly closed the door and scrambled to pull the dark red polo on and then hopped around as he struggled to get his boxers and fresh jeans over damp legs. Amber had brought him a pair of sneakers, bless her.

His hair was clean but a hopeless mess since he'd forgotten to ask her to bring some styling product. Giving up, he slicked it all back as best he could with his fingers and made his way back out into the room. Wordlessly Kon offered him the pizza box. Quirking his lips in a slight smile, Tim took a medium sized slice and nibbled the end.

“So you said you're head of Drake industries. But you don't look old enough.” Kon glanced up at him from his perch on the end of one of the double beds. He'd turned the television on while waiting, but it was an old film that didn't make much sense to him. Truth be told, Tim barely looked old enough to drive. “How old are you?” He asked, trying not to sound too prying as the other boy sat next to him, the outside of their thighs lightly brushing.

“Seventeen.” Tim muttered. “I'll be eighteen in July.”

“Huh.” Conner folded his arms.

“I--” Tim finished his slice and didn't know what to do with his hands. He fiddled with the ugly comforter. “I had to grow up pretty fast.” Conner tilted his head, as if to ask him to elaborate.

“My parents passed away.” He dropped the hem of the blanket. “And I had to drop out of school. Luckily, I was smarter than the average fifth grader so I knew what I wanted to do. I took my inheritance and started up my tech company. It's doing really well.” He was already lying. Fuck. He didn't want to lie.

“That's... really cool.” Conner nodded, before his eyes widened in realization. “I mean, knowing what you want to do with your life. Not the other stuff!”

Tim bit his lip.

The movie ended, and a familiar theme song began to play. Tim's attention flashed to the screen, his brow raising as what looked to be this earth's version of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker began to play. Only it was called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“Have you ever seen this?” Conner asked, bumping his shoulder lightly. “It's kinda silly, but it's still entertaining.”

“No, buuuut... I could watch an episode or two.” Tim smiled, bumping back into the touch. “And maybe we could Netflix the rest another day? If you want to hang out again that is. I promise we won't end up fighting a supervillain.”

“I'd like that.” Conner replied, leaning back. He was just as warm as Kon had been, and Tim fought the urge to press closer. Studiously ignoring the way his stomach flipped and fluttered, he grabbed another slice of pizza.

They both settled down for the random episode, sniggering together over the bad graphics and cheesier one-liners. Drawing his legs to his chest, Tim rest his chin on his knees, glancing at the boy beside him. Conner was absorbed completely in the screen, absently chewing the last of his pizza crust.

If he smiled a bit too wide, or laughed too much at the absolutely ridiculous show it was ok. Being a teenage CEO and secret vigilante was great and all, but being a normal teenager with Conner was what he _really_ wanted.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a good day, and a happy fourth to my fellow 'Mericans. (Can't say I was happy about $90+million of our tax dollars going towards the fucking fascist's penis-envy parade. But I spent the day writing and trying hard to stay positive.) I am still trying hard to break this wall in my writing, as I feel like I'm stunted and dumbed down from what I previously wrote. There was a long break between the first chapters and the more recent ones, and I honestly regret deleting my old Tumblr. I had story notes for this that would have been helpful. x_x At any rate I'm steadily working on the next chapter. Things will start to heat up when Tim starts to sink his talons into Earth-16's villain league. :3c


	6. Chapter 6

Monday morning came and Tim practically floated into the office, dropping his coat and briefcase on the lounge chair inside his office. He'd spent the weekend binge watching Buffy and laying around his apartment in sinfully loose sweatpants and henleys while Conner sprawled out next to him on the couch. They'd eaten their weight in ice cream and even more take out food than his arteries knew what to do with. There hadn't been a single interruption in their marathon other than Conner's curfew, which Tim had been polite enough to not ask him to break. He tried not to think about whether or not Conner had turned his communicator off while with him or if it was just a slow weekend. There had been times back in his days with his first team that were free of obligations too.

Speaking of slow, today his schedule was certainly not. Amber had already briefed him on his way in as well as handed him his first coffee of the morning. By now she knew that he needed one at least every hour and a half. He loved Amber, so. Fucking. Much. She brewed a mean cup of joe, and knew exactly how to make it to his taste.

It broke his heart that his favorite brand of coffee didn't exist in this world-- Death Wish Coffee was the only thing that got him through some of the worst cases. He took a long, deep sip from his mug, reading through a sheaf of contracts. Since the new contracts for Drake's drone technology division had finalized with the US Armed Forces things had picked up considerably for the company. He'd sent waves through the tech community, introducing a new drone programming that had outclassed it's competitors by at least two decades. His youth, and relatively humble origins had fascinated some tech magazines into pestering him for interviews.

Tim was most certainly not interested in stepping into the light. He valued his privacy and was not going to allow a media circus to ruin his efforts in this world. He knew he should have dialed back the programming a notch when he'd familiarized himself with Earth-16 but the lack of funds had forced his hand.

He moved on from his files to his work tablet, quickly beginning the process of tweaking his next project for the next conference. It was only when Amber's soft knock sounded and the door clicked open that he stopped working. The graveyard of coffee mugs on his desk denoted the time that had passed, and he gave her a sheepish smile. He'd worked right through lunch again.

She pointed at him, then made a downwards motion. The meaning was clear, _quitting time._

“Sorry Ms. Hart.” He saved the files he was working on before tucking the tablet back into his bag. Glancing out the wall to wall window on the far side of his office he took note that the sun was already getting low to the point that the daylight was a warm apricot hue.

A sharp smile slide over his face, before smoothing out into a friendly goodnight to his assistant. They left the office together, but split up at the parking garage. Amber was going home. Tim was very much not. He entered the red Bulgatti he'd driven to work and reached under the steering wheel to press the invisible button seamlessly molded there. The base of the low riding car opened, and he slid down the secret chute installed under his personal parking space. One quick slide straight down to the hidden roost below his office building. It was still a work in progress, being a bigger space than his home roost so the place was outfitted with bare bones for now. All the essentials, none of the frills. He pulled off his tie and threw it off haphazardly as he leaned over his new supercomputer control board flicking it on. 

It flared to life faster than any computer on this earth could, already anticipating his night's case by bringing up files he'd been working on the previous week. For a small state, Rhode Island's crime rather was happily low. The Harbor had a small uptick in activity due to the team of teenagers that had made a certain mountain by the beach their home. Over the months of moving in, he'd been keeping tabs on them as well as the justice league.

The huge screen on the freshly built super computer flashed up a folder of photos from his latest spy drones feed.

“Oh my.” Tim sank into his chair, running a finger along the side of his jaw. “Well that is just rude.” He rest his elbow on the control panel, chin resting lightly in his hand. On screen, Bane's discreet but obvious trucks were at several weight stations en route to his neck of the woods right out of Gotham's gutter. Why he would send them to Rhode Island made no sense. New York or even D.C. was in the realm of possibilities.

Unless they were bypassing Gotham City docks and other more conspicuous ports to get his product out of the country. Or bring it inside. He flicked through several feeds, watching ships dock and set sail. Marking time stamps at various interesting activity was tedious but he knew it would serve him well at a later date.

His stomach rumbled, causing him to unfocus on the task at hand. In the screen's reflection he could see his spare suit waiting in the case behind him. It seemed to be judging him, wondering why he hadn't patrolled yet. Kicking back from the computer, he rolled the chair around to face the case, tilting his head. Why indeed.

Paranoia had swept through him when he first attempted to don the suit after coming to earth-16. He'd thought it was nerves then, but now he knew it was hesitation about the suit's design itself. In his own world he'd been a bat, but here he wasn't part of that. The cowl itself was too similar, made of the same make and mold as the bat mantle. Despite it's lack of pointy ears he may as well have screamed Batman from the rooftops.

He traced his fingers on the glass, just above the Red Robin medallion on the chestplate. Perhaps it was time to redesign, new costume, new world afterall. Snatching his tablet from the work bench he quickly set to work. It was an old design to begin with, just a rough work up and possible functions to be incorporated.

He crinkled his nose, staring at the gaudy red, green and yellow splashes of color over the lines of the suit, which fanned out into parrot like wings at the side of the arms. Dick would have liked it. The whole thing looked like a Las Vegas showgirl costume.

He deleted the file entirely and started anew.

Hours later he had a design he liked, a mixture of both his old suit and the Las Vegas suit. He sent in orders for the machines needed to fabricate the suit materials and parts before calling it a night.

He headed to the zeta tube he'd commandeered from the justice league, stepping inside. In one straight shot he was home again, with a few hours left to get a quick shower and some shut eye.

It was odd to him, catching sleep every night. The bags under his eyes were nearly gone as a result. He'd not been in top form when he'd first left his world. Binge drinking to pass out since he couldn't sleep, eating little more than mouthfuls here and there to make his stomach stop hurting but not enough to sustain. He was still working on his appetite but it had never been particularly ravenous.

He hesitated to remove his clothes once he reached the master bath. He wasn't ashamed of his imperfections, but he was unhappy to see reminders of his failures. Each one was branded into his memory, no matter how faded it was on his skin. Even the nearly miniscule scuff on his left knee from when he was but a child chasing Robins on rooftops was as clear as yesterday to him.

Tossing his clothes into a nearby laundry chute he opened the sink drawer and pulled out lavender essential oil to drip onto the loofa he had hanging from the overhead shower. As water began to fill the shower with steam, the scent blossomed easing his sore neck muscles. Rubbing the back of his neck absently he stepped into the cascading spray, sighing.

There was a choice he was stalling to make here. Tonight had been proof. There was no mission, no Batman to consider. All that remained was himself, whoever that was. Should he forge ahead, jump back into the fray like he did at home? Or should he hang the cape up entirely and focus on making a difference in a non-vigilante capacity?

It was a question he did not yet have an answer to. Rinsing the soap from his skin he grabbed the bottle of shampoo. Scrubbing his hair as though it might dislodge the sudden doubt plaguing him, he grumbled to himself. Both answers had their pros and cons but...

Kon.

Tim let the shower pour over his face, before he could admit that he was crying. He punched the tiled wall lightly, before dragging his hand down to turn off the faucet. He could not quit. Not now. He had much to accomplish here and while Tim Drake could do some of it, Red Robin would be able to do all of it.

He didn't bother to blow dry his hair or dress himself. Throwing himself down onto his bed he stared at the ceiling.

Another thing that was bothering him was his name. He'd originally chosen it because it was honoring his time as Robin and distinguished himself from it at the same time. He'd chosen the colors for Kon, wrapped himself in the lore of the mission and made it his own.

But on Earth-16?

Red Robin was an overpriced burger chain.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

He woke to alarms.

Flipping out of bed to his feet, Tim was already yanking open the hidden panel by his bedside to slam a fist into the button that would unseal the entrance to his roost. His computer system was up running once he entered the roost, bringing up the cause for the alarm. There were certain things that would set these to sound off, starting with a security breach of the roost, class six alien invasions, and...

Joker.

Tim's eyes narrowed, anger burning in his throat as he watched the newsfeeds of Joker unleashing a new toxin into the streets of Happy Harbor.

“ _HAHAHAHAHA HELLO FOLKS AND JOKES, ARE YOU HAPPY? HAHAHA BE HAPPY IN HAPPY HARBOR! AHAHAHAHAHAHEEHEAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAAAA!”_

The telecaster was a hostage, trembling as she held the microphone to Joker's split maw. It wouldn't be long now before a league response came, but he was here and they weren't. From his bedroom he could probably have seen the exact corner the action was going down. If this Joker was anything like his own, the teens would not respond to his threat. 

Or not.

That was definitely Kid Flash running straight into trouble. Tim pinched the bridge of his nose groaning as the speedster ended up straight in harm's way, getting cold clocked by Harley Quinn. Wally was down for the count and that was not a good place to be. He turned, opening up the case he kept his uniforms. Solemnly, he ran a hand over the front of the red tunic and made a decision.

 

 

“A little help here??” Artemis cried, whirling to fire more arrows into the crowds of intoxicated citizens. Foam formed, immobilizing a group of people who were currently trying to kill anything that moved. “Damnit Wally, wake up!” She yelled, back flipping as a giant mallet came flying towards her.

“Ah ah ah Arrowette!” Harley sang. “Speedy is taking a nap. Time to lay your little head down to sleep too, permanently!”

Artemis was at a disadvantage and she knew it. The haze of gas was dangerously close, and one stiff wind would blow it right at her. Bouncing away from yet another swing by her opponent, she reached to her belt, desperately trying to grab her rebreather. It was designed for water use, but it was better than nothing.

“Ow!!” Harley yelped, as something whizzed past Artemis's ear, thunking into the top of the crazy Gothamite's hand.

 _What the hell took you so long, Rob??_ Artemis grumbled, taking aim at the stunned villianess. One well placed shot had her appropriately tangled in a net, and another arrow had her immobilized in constricting foam. Harley wailed from her squishy prison, crocodile tears running down her white cheeks.

“No fair! You damn bat brat!!!” She shouted, the pom poms on her hat flopping futilely against her face. “C'mere and fight me like a man!”

Artemis knocked the mouthy woman out with a well placed kick, before drawing another arrow to notch in preparation for anymore intoxicated victims coming her way. In the pink and green smoke cloud, she could see the flash of a black cape, and smiled.

_Nevermind. Thanks Robin._

_For what? You ok?_ Robin sounded winded, even through the mind link.

 _For the assist?_ Artemis replied, shooting into another crowd of people coming her way.

_I don't know what you're talking about. Are you being sarcastic? Need help? What's your location?_

_But you just... Wait, someone just helped me take out Harley. Wasn't it you?_ Artemis made her way to Wally's side, where the speedster was starting to come around, rubbing his sore skull.

_Harley?! No I'm here with—ungh... I'm with Superboy and Miss M. There's a hoard of people at our location, on the crossing of Verde avenue and Jasper Street! Meet us there and stay alert. We still haven't found the Joker._

Unsettled, Artemis checked Wally for any sign of concussion, ignoring his whining. Satisfied his brains hadn't been knocked out, she allowed him to lift her, before they sped to the location their teammates were steadily fighting back intoxicated civilians. 

“This is like a zombie movie.” Wally set her down and jumped into the chaos, tying people up with their own shoelaces at a hurried pace. Superboy was doing his best to not hurt anyone, acting as a burly sheepdog to herd the people away from M'gann as she was using her telekinesis to round up the particles of gas into a single area. She had an impressive gas cloud corralled in the air above the crossing already, but it was taking a lot of her concentration to do it. 

_Robin, where are you??_ Wally hollered, even though they all had told him a million times that he didn't need to. M'gann winced, the cloud trembling.

_Spotted Joker, in pursuit!_ Robin replied.  _Kaldur's with me, how is gas containment going?_

_It's taking some time. Be careful!_ M'Gann warned him.  _Wally can you whip up a cyclone to carry this cloud out to the bay?_

_Can do, beautiful!!!_

 

Joker was dangerous because he was unpredictable. Robin had always heeded Batman's orders to never engage the madman alone, and to keep his whereabouts known at all times. They'd spotted him at the edge of his own poisonous cloud, diving into it as though pulled by a showman's hook in a most unnatural way.

_Kaldur do you have a visual?_

_No, none._

The Joker's laugh echoed further away, and he was speaking, but it was unclear what he was saying. Robin tapped his gasmask, popping out the old filter, and snapped a new one into place as Kaldur did the same.

_Visuals are going to be low in the fog, stick close to me._ Robin met the Atlantean's even gaze, before they moved into the cloud as well. They would have twenty minutes with the new filters, which normally would have been plenty. This rogue was going to prove troublesome though.

There was a fight ahead, bodies meeting in heavy hits. Robin followed the sound, his feet carrying him swiftly through the gas. Beside him Kaldur's backpack glowed hazily, lighting their way faintly. 

_Batman's here._

Two figures fought, one a mere shadow while the other was a pasty menace. A dark fist snatched out, grabbing Robin's tunic, throwing him to the ground just in time to avoid a spray of green acid to the face.

“Oh GOOD! One, two, three-hee-hee-hee OH lucky me!” Joker cackled, before an ominous crunch silenced him to mere choking gags. “ **H-aahaaacck** ”

That would have been the sound of the clown's trachea being nearly crushed, Robin guessed, as he scrambled across the ground, away from the puddle of poison. As he stood again, he realized that something was off. The darker figure was close, close enough that Robin could tell now that the height was completely off.

Artemis's confusion suddenly made a chill fly down his spine.

He flung a disk towards the shadow, and another towards the Joker, unsurprised when neither hit their marks. The Joker appeared through the haze, nearly stumbling upon Kaldur, his long bony fingers wrapped about his pale throat. He was trying to run, Robin realized, but the other figure wasn't about the let him.

Like a horror movie, he and Kaldur were helpless to watch as hands emerged from the cloud, snatching the panicked Joker back into it's enveloping fold, his choked cries a mere whimper. 

They tried to follow but they had all but vanished, leaving both Robin and Kaldur to stumble out the other side of the fog. Both teens looked at one another, unsettled.

_Was that...?_ Kaldur questioned.

_No. That wasn't Batman._ Robin replied firmly. 

_Guys? The League's here. They got the gas under control on this side, they should be headed to your location soon. We also found something you should take a look at.”_ Wally's interruption was abrupt, causing them to pause in their conversation.

_Roger that. We'll meet up as soon as help gets here._ Robin affirmed, staring at the puddle of acid nearby. His stomach felt as though he'd drank the stuff, and he rubbed at his chest absently where the hand had grabbed him roughly to pull him to safety. Kaldur looked very much like he felt the same, or it could have been that their filters were running low.

When Red Tornado arrived, they still didn't feel better.

 

 

Cleanup took two hours, while the detoxing victims took longer. An antidote had been made to the gas, and the rest of the night was spent rounding up people who'd been affected. It wasn't until they'd all managed to make it back to the cave and clean themselves up that the debrief happened. Batman didn't even seem phased by the event, calmly taking their reports with stride. 

“So any idea the Joker's whereabouts by now?” Robin rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Batman's cowl. He felt responsible for letting the madman get away.

“Arkham.” Batman replied matter of fact. “He was deposited there half an hour after your encounter with him. He suffered broken arms, legs, and his throat was severely damaged. They expect him to make a recovery but he won't be causing trouble for some time.” 

“Uhm... What?” Robin asked in disbelief. “But...we didn't catch--”

“There was an unknown individual that dropped him off at the asylum.” Batman grimaced. “The security footage picked up an image of him but it's only a shot of his back.

The hologram monitor pulled up the video, of a red and black tank looking car stopped in front of the asylum. A man stepped out, pausing. Correction-- the teenager stepped out, pausing to turn ever so slightly to avoid the camera. He was wearing what looked like a black and red body suit, with two belts strapped securely over his chest. His head was covered with a cowl but from the angle it was hard to tell how much of it covered his face.

He wore no cape, though the reason for it was revealed when the back of the tank opened, revealing a beaten and bruised Joker. Apparently he'd used the cape as a blanket to keep the man from going into shock. Unwrapping the heavy fabric from his captive, the teen hauled the madman from the restraints and tossed him at the oncoming medical staff. The Joker did not move from where he fell, both wrists and legs chained with a strange clamp that looked quite painful.

Robin's breath sucked in as Joker jerked in a nurse's arms, trying to bite her.

The unknown teenager knocked the man's front teeth clear out of his head, moving as fast as a viper, whipping a cylinder from his belt. It extended into a staff, smashing into the Joker's mouth with pinpoint accuracy. The hit was clinical as it was ruthless.

The staff was afraid to come near the madman again until the new vigilante pulled something from the back of his tank. It was a caged muzzle, which he all but slapped onto the Joker's face as though he were an aggressive dog at the vet's office. There was no gentleness in his bedside manner, unaffected by the Joker's sobbing form shaking below him. None of the staff seemed too broken up by his beating.

“Holy shit dude.” Wally breathed. “Who is that guy?”

“We don't know. Staff said they thought he was one of us.” Batman rumbled and Robin sucked in a gulp of air. “The style of mask he wore is quite similar to my own and the tunic was reminiscent of Robin's. His emblem was completely different however.” A rough computerized mark up of the mark came onto the screen. The design was a round black disk with a stylized bird of prey's head in the middle. It looked almost like a rising phoenix, Robin thought absently. 

“You think it's a copycat.” Robin said meekly.

“I think it's someone playing a game.” Batman growled. “He is young, but obviously has trained. By who we do not know. Finding him will be a league priority. If you come into contact with him, you are not to engage.”

The team looked amongst themselves, clearly offended.

“That's an  _order_ .” Batman reminded them.

_ “Since when do we take orders to not investigate suspicious things?”  _ Wally and Robin glanced at each other as though butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.

“Understood.” Kaldur replied, placing his hand to his chest.  _ “Team, we need to have a meeting, as soon as the league leaves.” _

_ “Good because I have something you guys need to see.”  _ Artemis crossed her arms over her chest, watching as the meeting wrapped up. When the last of the league left, and Red Tornado had returned to his room, the team wandered out of the war room and into the kitchen. It was customary to make something to eat after a mission, M'Gann and Artemis pulling ingredients out of the cupboards to assemble a quick chicken pot pie casserole. Only when it was popped into the oven and Wally had pried his face away from the oven door in his eagerness to eat the mess of carbs and meat did they finally talk about the mystery-teen.

“So remember when someone saved my butt from Harley?” Artemis leaned her hip against the granite countertop. “Well they left something behind when they did so.”

They gathered around the counter, where she laid the throwing disk she'd managed to pull out of Harley's hand earlier. It was constructed much like the batarangs, only this one was shaped like a sharp edged songbird.

It also had a mechanism to shrink to the size of a baby carrot, making it the perfect size to tuck into a utility belt pocket. Wally played with it, repeatedly shrinking and resizing it until Artemis smacked his hand.

“You're gonna break it.” She hissed at the speedster, while Robin picked it up and did the same thing a few more times. 

“This is...” Robin trailed off, pulling one of his own throwing disks out. “It's definitely got some of the features we have on ours, but the metal is completely different. I need to take this to the cave and run some tests on it.”

“But... won't Batman find out?” Conner spoke up at last, frowning. “He told us to stay out of it, he'd just confiscate it right?”

“Yeah, but I promise he won't find out.” Robin grinned.

 

 

Tim all but crawled back into his office the next morning, barely having had time to change clothes and switch from his new tank tumbler to the red mustang. It was with a raised brow that Amber placed his first coffee of the day on his desk and handed him contracts to review and sign.

“Sorry, was just so excited about opening the new divisions that I couldn't sleep?” Tim explained, grinning at her in a way he hoped conveyed how very much he hoped that she hadn't made him decaf coffee as punishment for being a walking zombie first thing in the morning. She smiled and waved him off, leaving him to his work.

Alone, he plopped down at his desk to take a long sip of his brew. It wasn't decaf, bless her. He sighed, feeling the warmth of the mug seep into his hands as he cupped it. The fight hadn't troubled him much, but the Joker's behavior did. He knew a Joker with a plan in his addled mind, and he knew a Joker when he was dancing to someone else's orders. Last night's Joker had been the latter.

The bastard had tried talking to him the whole way to the asylum, only to pout when he refused to so much as grunt at him. If nothing else, silence pissed Joker off the most, and it had paid off right before they'd come to a stop in front of Arkham.

_ “Just you wait, you'll see the light too, kiddo!” _

Tim drained the last of his coffee and set aside the mug, before folding his arms low over his chest. Leaning back in his chair he narrowed his eyes as he puzzled that parting phrase.

There was a message there, he knew. Like Riddler, Joker enjoyed tossing clues into his jokes and phrases. Some were harder to see than others, but Tim was practiced at this from years of solitary training and patrolling. 

**You'll see the Light.**

Tim snorted.

That didn't mean they would see him though.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Timbers went all in with his Red Robin costume. I actually like the original one a lot, but don't worry he'll be using other costumes soon enough. :3c he went with the cowl to hide his face more, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Another chapter, whew. Hope you guys enjoy it, promise it'll be a little more uh... action packed next chapter?  
> Comment below and let me know what you think!


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